The Rebellion
by gleekgal62
Summary: Andromeda Perro wants to escape. And the only way she can do that is if she goes into the Hunger Games. She's been trained for this, but can she make it through alone? Rated T for blood and violence.
1. Escape

I spit at my reflection in the mirror, cursing myself mentally for my failure during training. I missed the bulls-eye twice. Twice. I never miss. And not only did I miss, but I missed the day before the reaping.

I see my reflection in the perfectly clean mirror of my bathroom. I see the sweat from my frustration in training glistening against my peach skin, my dark brown hair a tangled mess and falling loosely around my shoulders. My dark blue eyes look tired and I can see a small bruise forming from where my trainer had struck me. Calliope has never been much for patience and understanding.

Done with my self-loathing, I turn on the bathroom faucet and let the cold water run over my aching hand. I continue to let the water run over my hands until I hear screaming from down the hall. The blood-curling shriek makes me jump. Father must have another one of his victims in his bedroom again. Knowing what my father is capable of, I shiver at the thought of what he could be doing to that poor girl. Knowing my father's preferences, I know that she can't be much older than I am.

I turn off the faucet and begin to get undressed, thinking that maybe the sound of the shower water will drown out the young girl's cries of pain. I step in the shower and turn the pressure on full blast, but it still doesn't stifle the sound of the girl's screams. I try not to feel pity for this girl. I know from past experiences that I should just look out for myself, especially when it comes to my father. Every time I hear the sound of a shriek from a young girl coming from my father's bedroom, I simply remind myself that it's better for it to be her than for it to be me.

I hear one last cry and then silence, and I instantly know that my father's already done with this one. He always leaves them there once they've stopped screaming because it takes away the thrill. He prefers it when they beg and plead for the torture to end.

I quickly turn off the shower and step out of the chamber. The bathroom mirror is foggy and I can no longer see myself, which I prefer. I pull on my clothes without bothering to dry myself off and step out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

I quickly look around the small hallway to make sure that the coast is clear and sneak off to my bedroom. I try to open and close the door without making it creak. Turning around, I nearly jump when I see someone sitting on my bed.

I mockingly clutch my hand over my heart. "Holy crap, Helena. You almost gave me a heart attack."

She laughs as I plop down next to her. "One can only wish."

Helena Waxburg is my one of my best friends in the entire country of Panem. She's been my neighbor my entire life and is a master at picking locks. Which explains why I often come into my room with my window wide open and Helena sitting on my bed.

I roll my eyes at her. "Oh, please. Your life would be so boring without me." Even though I'm half-joking, we both know that what I say is true. I'm her only close friend.

Suddenly, Helena's usually bright and cheerful face turns serious. "Please tell me that you aren't volunteering this year, Andy."

I sigh and mentally groan at the nickname. "Helena, I-"

She tucks a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. "Why can't you just wait until next year? You have another year." I can see tears forming in the corners of her dark green eyes.

I look down at my lap, not wanting to look at her depressed expression. "I have to, Helena. I just have to."

"Why?" She asks putting her hand on my shoulder.

I shrug her hand off, almost in an angry matter. "You know why!"

She grows silent. Of course she knows why. Everyone in the neighborhood can hear the screams coming from inside the Perro house.

"I can't stand living her anymore, Helena. It's driving me crazy. If I win, I can live in the Victor's Village and never have to see my father again. I can start over." I say, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

"Will I ever see you again?" She asks, and I feel the guilt beginning to creep over me. I hadn't even thought about Helena.

I nod in response. "Of course. I'll take your whole family with me. The houses in the Victor's Village are huge."

I look up at her and see a hopeful look in her eyes. She shakes her head in response. "But what if you don't win, Andy?" She says, and I can see the horror on her face as she realizes the truth. There's a huge possibility that I _won't _win. It's the Quarter Quell, which means that there are twice as many tributes this year. Instead of facing twenty three competitors, I'll be facing forty eight.

Despite my doubts, I tell her, "I will win. I promise. I'm not letting anything stand in the way."

I eventually get her to leave and I find myself lying face-down on my bed, breathing deeply and calmly. I feel the guilt continue to wash over me, knowing that I've just made a promise that I most likely won't keep.


	2. Promise

I awaken to the sound of pans knocking into one another and the sizzling of something frying. Which means that Faren, our family Avox, must be cooking a big breakfast for reaping day. I just hope that Father has already gone off to work.

Yawning and stretching, I silently creep over to my ornately decorated dresser and pull open the top drawer, trying to decide what to wear to this year's reaping. Normally I would just throw on the first dress I see, but this year's different. This year is the year that I will become tribute, and hopefully the year where I will become victor, and I want to make a good impression. Impressions are always important when it comes to the Hunger Games.

After a few minutes of decision, I decide to go with a simple navy blue dress that had once been my mother's.

_I see the blood rushing down her face, and the tears of pain as she mouths to me, "Go, Andromeda, go."_

Snapping back to reality, I quickly slam the drawer shut and pull on the dress. It even smells like her old perfume. Lilac.

I head downstairs, practically floating down the grand staircase, but stop in my track when I see my father seated at the kitchen table, devouring his scrambled eggs. Noticing my arrival, he looks up from his meal and grins that terrifying grin of his. I gulp.

"Morning, Andromeda." He says, not taking off that smirk of his.

I've barely ever been afraid of anything or anyone in my life. Not even my trainer, Calliope, who is one of the most vicious and cruel women that I have ever known. But my father is a whole different story. He terrifies me on a level that I can't even comprehend. Everything about him makes my skin crawl. His menacing grin, his shaved head, his yellowing teeth, his huge muscles. Everything. Every time I see him I feel like crawling back underneath my warm comforter and pretend that he doesn't exist. And that my mother's still alive.

_I scream as I watch her. Bleeding. Screaming. I just want it to end. But he doesn't stop, he just continues to cackle as I watch my mother slowly dying._

"Hello, Father." I respond, trying to avoid his unrelenting gaze as I take my seat at the table. Faren immediately piles my plate high with toast and sausage. All of the sudden I'm not all that hungry, but I eat anyways just to distract myself from my father. Just his simple presence at the kitchen table chills me to the very core.

We continue to sit in silence until I've finished my meal. The reaping is in only a few hours, and I desperately want to get away from my father.

As I begin to head for the door, he springs up from his chair and grabs my arm roughly. I try not to shake, knowing that fear only makes him stronger.

"Good luck." He whispers into my ear and lets me go. It's just like him to try to break me on the day of the reaping, but I won't give him the satisfaction.

Feeling slightly cocky at the moment and knowing this would be one of my last moments with my father, I simply say to him, "I don't need it."

And with that, I walk out the front door and head off to the main square of District 2 in pursuit of Helena.

…...

I spot Star Mankard first, in a flowery pink dress next to the cosmetics store. Although extremely annoying and a bit slutty, it is almost impossible for me to hate her. She's just too... nice, and sometimes I can't stand how the boys of District 2 take advantage of how naive and sweet she is. She's always been a "people pleaser".

She notices me and waves me over, where I see she's examining two different colors of shiny lip gloss from the Capitol.

"You look beautiful, Andromeda." She says, giving a flip of her straight black hair.

I know she's just flattering me, but I thank her anyway. "Thanks, Star. You too."

She smiles down at me. She's already four inches taller than me, but the three inch heels that she's wearing make her even taller.  
She immediately shoves the lip glosses in front of my faces. "Do you think I'd look good in Rose Red or Forsythia Yellow?"

Although I honestly couldn't care less, I answer her anyway. "Definitely Rose Red."

I begin to scan the crowds of people for Helena. I know that she has to be here. She always comes to the square in the morning to meet me.  
I soon spot her over by a small plant shop, examining a bouquet of purple and yellow flowers and talking to a boy that I don't recognize.

"I'll catch up with you later, Star." I say, walking away before she can even reply.

I jog up to Helena, who's wearing a frilly yellow dress. She smiles brightly when she sees me.

"Hey, Andy." She says and pulls me into a hug. Even though I am trained and she has the strength of an eleven year old girl, Helena is still much bigger than I am. She's about six feet tall and is one of the tallest girls in District 2.

"Hey, Helena." I say to her, smiling back.

I notice the boy looking me up and down. He seems kind of familiar and I try to put a name to his face. He has short, dark blonde hair and is almost a foot taller than me. He's well-built and I can easily tell that he's trained.

"Andy, this is Cato. He's one of my father's students. He's volunteering this year." Helena says, probably noticing my confused glances.

Helena's father is one of the District's most respected and most unattainable trainers, so Cato has to be pretty skilled for Helena's father to accept him.

"Pleased to meet you, Andy." Cato says, smirking. There's an almost evil glint in his eye that makes me nervous.

"It's Andromeda." I say in an annoyed tone. Helena is the only person that I allow to call me that.

He just continues to smirk, which kind of pisses me off, but I don't let it show for Helena's sake. Today might be the last day that I see Helena, and I'm not going to let my temper get the best of me.

"Helena?" I say, turning towards her. "I need to talk to you about something." Then, glancing at Cato, I say. "Alone."

He gets the message and begins to walk away. "Bye, Helena. Bye, _Andy._"

I swear that if Helena wasn't there I would've smacked that stupid grin off of his face.

"What's wrong?" Helena asks, and I can see a hint of worry in her eyes.

"Helena, I need to talk to you about something... serious." I say, gulping nervously. I desperately hope that she won't get upset with me. I don't want my last moments with her to be like that.

Her face begins to pale, bringing out the red in her strawberry blonde hair. "What is it, Andy?"

My eyes look around the square nervously. "Helena, if I d-d-die in that arena, do you swear that you'll move on?"

I know it's a tough question, but I need to know this before I volunteer. I don't want to leave knowing that I'm tearing my best friend apart.

She looks down at the floor for a second, and I can see a small tear rolling over her nose. I hate doing this to her, but it's important.

"I mean, I know you'll be depressed, but do you promise me that you'll move on?" I say, putting a hand on her now slightly shaky shoulder.

She nods slowly, and I quickly pull her into a hug. It takes all of my strength to not cry along with her.

The last thing I see before Helena and I leave the shop is Cato grinning at me. I make a note to kill him first if we end up in the arena together.


	3. Freedom

I find myself becoming jittery at the reaping. My hands are shaking and the only thing keeping me from screaming is Helena's hand resting on my shoulder. I know I shouldn't be nervous, after all this is what I want, what I've wanted for so long. Not to mention that the continuous shaking of my hands makes me look weak and scared. I make a note to make the jittering stop as soon as I volunteer. I refuse to look like a fool in front of the entire country of Panem.

I've taken a spot near the end of the section of seventeen year old girls so that I can be prepared to run for the stage as soon as our capitol escort, Anais, asks for a volunteer. I know that I won't be the only female volunteering, and certainly not the largest. Some of the girls from District 2 are built like monsters, so hopefully my speed will be an advantage over them.

I already have one knee jutted ahead of me, prepared to sprint for the stage as Anais fishes around the bowl for the first female tribute. Her eyebrows, which are dyed a bright magenta, seem to almost dance as she smiles at the crowd.

"And our first female tribute is..." She says, pausing for dramatic effect. "Forsythia Roseburn."

I turn and see a young girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old, begin to walk up the stage. I can tell that she's trained, but she doesn't seem happy or eager like most trained tributes are. She seems depressed, and she's definitely tiny for her age.

"Now, hold on just a moment. Before I continue, are there any volunteers to take this young woman's place?"

It's like she's set off a bomb with her words. I instantly begin to sprint towards the stage, dodging volunteers that are at least twice as big as me, hurdling over young women fighting for the honor of becoming tribute. One girl, who looks to be about eighteen years old and has the build of an ox, comes charging at me, prepared to attack. Panicking, I scratch at her eyes and continue to run for the stage. I find myself grabbing the edge of the wooden stage and pulling myself up to be found lying on the floor next to Anais's feet. Looking up, I see Anais raising a magenta eyebrow at me, and I quickly pull myself up from the ground.

"My name is Andromeda Perro and I volunteer as tribute." I say the words loud and rushed, because the day has finally come. I've made it, and all I have to do is make it back out alive.

"Well, aren't you just a driven young thing?" Anais says, winking at me with bright blue eyes and purple eyelashes. "Everyone, welcome the first female tribute for the 75th Hunger Games: Miss Andromeda Perro!"

I feel nothing but happiness as Anais raises my arm to the crowd. I wonder if my father even knows that his daughter, whom he had longed to break ever since she'd been born, was a tribute for the 75th Hunger Games. I wonder if he even believes that I can become victor. I smile at the thought.

I'm forced to just stand there, no doubt looking like an idiot, as Anais fiddles around the bowl for the first male tribute, and then picks up one of the paper slips with her manicured, turquoise hands.

Clearing her throat, she says brightly into the microphone, "And our first _male_ tribute for the 75th Hunger Games is... Avok Garringe."

And this time, before the young boy can even begin to walk up to the stage, Anais interjects with, "Are there any volunteers?"

This time it's like an even bigger bomb has exploded among the boys. They're much more vicious than the girls had been, and I swear that I can even see blood splattering across the main square's floor. Looking through the sea of vicious, fighting males I notice the boy that Helena had introduced me to at the flower shop, and I immediately see why he's had the honor of Helena's father as his trainer. He's clearly very strong and skilled in his fighting techniques, and viciously rips his way through the crowd, and it terrifies me. It almost terrifies me as much as my father terrifies me. He's already knocked out- or at least I hope they've only been knocked out- several large and trained eighteen year old boys with just his bare hands. It almost frightens me to imagine what he'd be like in the arena, with a weapon in his hands. It's a good thing I'm probably a lot quicker than this guy, and from the looks of it he might only be good at close combat, while I've been proven as almost an expert at combat from a distance.

I finish watching him slash his way through the crowd and run up the stairs, stepping in between Anais and I. Panting and looking slightly out of breath, he exclaims, "My name is Cato Monstrum and I volunteer!"

"Such a handsome young man." Anais proclaims, which I see only fuels Cato's already gigantic ego even more as he smirks in response. She turns toward the crowd with a magenta-toothed smile. "And there you have it, our first male tribute for the 75th Hunger Games."

She raises his arm up in the air, and I can see the proud and victorious expression on his face. He's clearly been waiting for this moment his entire life.

"Alright, now, shake hands." Anais says, waving a turquoise hand in our direction.

I turn towards Cato and he steps toward me, grabbing my hand roughly. His handshake is strong, firm. I try to imagine his hand wrapped around a sword with a three-foot blade. I notice that I haven't pulled away for at least ten seconds. I quickly pull my hand from his grasp and turn back toward the audience, where I examine the crowd. There's still two more tributes waiting to be reaped.

…...

The reaping is over and I'm waiting for friends and family to visit, while at the same time analyzing the other tributes that have been picked from my District.

First, there's Cato. His attitude pisses me off and he's more than twice my size. From what I've seen, I decide I want to avoid hand-to-hand combat with him in the arena. Then, there's Elaina Firman, the girl who's built like an ox and now has a giant gash across her eye, thanks to me. I haven't even gone to training yet and I've already made myself an enemy. And last, there's Avarus Wiley, the thirteen year old boy that hasn't stopped shaking ever since he's gotten reaped. So overall, not a completely horrible turnout.

I continue to sit on the white leather couch, fiddling with my thumbs, until a serious looking peacekeeper walks in, adorned in his white uniform. "You're father's here to see you."

I freeze at his words. I wasn't expecting this at all. I figured that he would still be at work and that he hasn't even found out that I've been reaped. But, knowing my father, he probably stayed home just so that he could visit me before I entered training. So that he could try to destroy me before I could even escape. But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hurting me. Not today. Not on _my_ day.

I gulp as my father walks into the room, dressed in his training uniform, the same one that he wore on the day of my mother's death.

"_Just shut up, Andromeda! She's gone! Stop your crying!" He angrily throws the butcher knife at the kitchen wall. It sticks._

He gives a mocking sigh and sits down in a wooden rocking chair across from me, putting his dirty training boots up on the glass coffee table. "Well, well, well." He smirks his eerie smile again, not taking his icy blue eyes off of me. "Seems like Daddy's little girl is all grown up, ain't she?"

"I'm not coming back." Is all I can manage to say to him. I can't even look him in the eye, afraid that I'll burst into tears. Looking into those icy blue eyes only reminds me of what he did. To me. To my mother. To everyone that I had once loved. "No matter what you do, you can't break me anymore." I gain the courage to look into those icy blue eyes, which I see narrowing suspiciously at me, trying to gain access into my insecurities. I continue. "It's a win-win situation for me. If I die in those games, I get to be away from you. If I live, I still never have to see you again. You can't hurt me anymore." That's all I can manage to say.

Then, without another word, he simply gets up and leaves the room. I feel myself bursting into tears as soon as the door closes behind him. They aren't even exactly sad tears, more like proud tears, tears of freedom. I no longer have the burden that is my father weighing down on my shoulders, breaking me down, making me unfeeling. I'm free of his power over me.

Shortly after I've finished drying my tears, Star Mankard comes through the door, refusing to look me in the eye. "Hey" is all that she can manage to say before she starts to cry, making her mascara run down her face.

I get up from the couch and pull her into a hug. It feels a bit awkward, considering the only two people I've ever hugged in my life were my mother and Helena, but also comforting at the same time. It's nice to know that Helena's not the only person in this world that cares for me. It makes me feel less alone.

"Whatever you do, Andromeda," She whispers into my ear, her voice shaky, "Don't let anything stand in your way."

She pulls away from me and brings up her small, flower-patterned pocketbook. She takes out a silver ring with a bright purple gemstone in the center. "I want you to use this as your token." Star says, slightly blushing. "It was my mother's, before she died."

Up until now, I hadn't even known that Star's mother was dead. In fact, I guess I've never really known all that much about Star Mankard.

I nod in response as she slides the simple ring on my finger, which surprisingly fits perfectly. I like its simplicity and elegance.

"Bye." Is all she says before she's ushered out of the room by a peacekeeper and I wave after her.

The next, and last person, to come in is Helena, whose eyes are puffy and red from crying. I feel the guilt begin to rise up inside of me again, but I quickly push it back down. Feeling guilty about Helena isn't going to help me win the games and get back to her.

She takes me hand in hers and gives it a gentle squeeze. We both just begin to laugh, for no reason at all. I know that if anyone else was to be watching, they would think we were crazy. Here I am, a seventeen year old girl about to be whisked into a game where I would fight against forty seven other tributes to survive, and here I am, laughing like a maniac with my best friend. I don't know why, but the laughter comforts me, makes me feel like maybe things will be the way they used to be. Before my mom died. Before I began to know the monster growing inside of my father. The simple times, where I would go down to the creek with Helena and catch dragonflies. But deep down, I know those days are over. And I'm about to enter a game that I can't get out of. The Hunger Games.


	4. Hidden

I find myself tracing delicate patterns on the rain-soaked window of the train. I'm seated next Avarus, who hasn't been shaking quite as much. Elaina sits across from me and keeps shooting me menacing glares, which surprisingly don't terrify me. From what I've gathered so far, she's all muscles with no brains. Cato's seated next to her, basically tearing apart the pastries and sweets before him.

Then, there are our mentors. Ajax is a serious, muscular man in his fifties. His games were on before my time, so I have no idea how he won. My guess is strength. Calantha is a beautiful woman in her early twenties, with jet black hair and baby blue eyes. I recall her games from when I was eleven. She won at fifteen years old by killing all of her allies in their sleep before all the other tributes were dead. I sense a glint of mischief in her wide eyes.

I know how the Quarter Quell works. Since there are only two mentors for each district every year, one male tribute and one female tribute goes to each mentor. For some reason, the eldest tribute gets to decide who they'll choose as their "partner" in training sessions. So that means that either Elaina or Cato will have the honor of being able to decide. I mentally groan at the thought of being stuck with Avarus. He's weak and would only slow me down. Then there's Cato. Sure, he's annoying and he's already managed to piss me off multiple times, but he's strong and doesn't have a grudge against me, or at least not yet. But there's no way Cato would pick me. I'm relatively small for a Career tribute, and most people tend to underestimate me because of it. But I'm not weak, and I'm skilled with all sorts of weapons, but mainly knives.

My thoughts are interrupted by Anais. "Alright then, tributes of District 2, let's get down to some important business." I think of my sparkling Capitol fork lodged deep in her turquoise neck. "Cato, since you are the eldest tribute from District 2, you get to choose who will be your partner at the opening ceremonies."

Everyone at the table studies him as he contemplates his decision. I stir a funky colored pastry around on my plate, knowing that he'll probably pick Elaina. She must know it to, judging from the cocky expression on her face.

"I pick Andromeda." I almost jump at his words. I study his face for any sign of why he had picked me, but his expression is unreadable. He just smirks at me, the arrogance of his nature clearly expressed on his face. I look down at my lap.

"Very well, then. Andromeda and Cato, you will be the first group representing District 2. Avarus and Elaina, you will be the second."Anais says, waving her manicured hand on the air.

I can't help but steal a glance at Elaina. Her expression is both angry and confused. Angry because she was stuck with a weak partner and Cato had chosen me over her. Confused because she probably didn't understand why Cato had chosen someone like me over a monster-sized tribute like her. I was beginning to question the same thing. There's something Cato isn't revealing, something that he won't let on to the rest of us. I can see it in his icy blue eyes. He knows something that the rest of us don't know, and I'm determined to find out.


	5. Cold

All seven of us are gathered into a compartment of the train with a large flat screen television hanging on the wall. I'm on the edge of the magenta couch, smushed up against the side by Cato. I try not to let on how much my side aches, knowing it will only fuel his already gargantuan ego. We're about to view the reapings from each district, and I can feel Cato's body vibrating rapidly, probably exhilarated to see his victims before he takes them off to slaughter. I hate how much I can relate, but the thought of how many of these people's lives are in my hands, how I can decide their fate, slightly excites me. It almost makes me feel as if I've already won. I push the dark thought deep down inside myself, for it reminds me to much of my father. There's no way that I would ever end up like him, a sadistic, cruel person who enjoys the torment of others. I would've shuddered if it wasn't for the fact that I'm in a room with three people who will eventually become my enemies in the arena. I can't show them any sign of weakness.

I jolt forward as the District 1 reaping begins. This one I'll have to pay attention to, for they will most likely become my allies, and will later become my competition. Unlike District 2, when District 1 tributes volunteer, it's not nearly as brutal. The claim for tribute simply goes to the first person that manages to yell it out.

The first female tribute is a small, beautiful girl with flaming red hair and sapphire-colored eyes. By her size, I judge her to be about fourteen years of age, which is a fairly young age for a volunteer, especially in Career standards. I wonder how long she'll last with the rest of us careers.

I can easily tell that the first male tribute is trained. He's tall, athletic, and has the typical cocky smile of a Career tribute. When his eyes meet the camera for a split second, I see something glint in his eye. Something dangerous, something... almost eerie. I make a note to watch out for him in the training center.

I almost laugh out loud at the sight of the second female tribute. She's your typical District 1 tribute. Tall and beautiful, shining blonde hair and sparkling emerald green eyes. She's almost _too_ pretty, and I begin to question whether she will be of any use in the arena. I guess I'll just have to let whatever happens in the training center decide that.

The second male tribute didn't volunteer, and it's clearly shown on his face how weak he is. He's very young, and it may even be his first reaping. My guess is that he'll last a day, at the most, in the arena.

When our reaping's shown, I smile to myself. I don't look as weak or pathetic as I thought I was going to look. I look strong, confident, cocky. Exactly what everyone expects and wants from a District 2 tribute. I look victorious as I take my place on the stage.

I pay no attention to the rest of District 2, proud of myself, knowing that I had made some sort of impression so far. It wasn't amazing or anything, but it was at least a start.

I pay no attention to District 3's reaping either, knowing that District 3 will most likely be of no use to me.

District 4's reaping comes next, and I make sure to pay close attention. District 4 is another one of the Career districts, so I'll most likely end up in alliance with some of them.

The first female tribute is called, and there are no volunteers to take her place. She appears to be about my age, and the look on her face was shocked and appalled, rather than the usual triumphant expressions of Career tributes. She leaves her face blank and expressionless as she walks toward the stage, hundreds of eyes on her back.

The first male tribute volunteers. It's hard for me to tell whether he's been trained or not, but he definitely has the build of a career tribute. He's a bit of a "pretty boy", with sandy blonde hair and eyes the color of the sea.

The second female tribute also volunteers, but it is definitely clear that she is untrained. She sounds distressed and worried when she volunteers, and her light brown hair is a frantic mess as she climbs onto the stage. I can't help but notice the worried expression on the first male tribute's face.

The second male tribute is a young boy, around the age of twelve. He's shaking and nearly crying as he makes his way to the stage. I remind myself not to feel pity. Pity only gets you killed when it comes to the Hunger Games.

I barely pay attention to the rest of the Districts, until the second female of District 12 comes up. The courageous young girl, who seems to be around my age, volunteers as tribute, which is extremely odd and barely ever happens in District 12. She doesn't even look distressed as she walks up to the stage, she looks enlightened, triumphant. She reminds me of a Career. I make a note to consider this girl.

The screen goes black and Anais stands up from her seat beside Ajax. "Alright then, everyone, off to your compartments. Might as well get some rest before we arrive at the Capitol, shall we?"

Everyone slowly begins to file out of the room, leaving me and Cato. I try to get up, but I'm still smushed against the side of the couch by Cato's mountain of a body.

"Do you mind?" I manage to mutter, my tone disgruntled and annoyed. He gives me that stupid cocky grin of his and moves slightly to the right, and I'm able to squeeze myself out.

I head for the compartment door, but then turn around and ask him what I've been wondering ever since he'd chosen me. "What's your angle, Cato?"  
He gives me an eerie, almost sadistic smile that almost frightens me. "What angle?" He gets up from the couch and I begin to tense up. I don't like the way he intimidates me, the way he makes me want to curl up in my bed. It's too much like my father.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." I say with as much strength and power as I can muster. "You could have picked Elaina, but you chose me. Why?" I cock my head to the side, letting him know that two can play at this game.

He shrugs slightly and begins to walk toward me slowly. I don't move, my feet planted firmly to the ground. "You got there first, didn't you?"

His reasoning makes sense, but something in those cold eyes of his makes me believe that there's still more to it than he's letting on. He takes a strand of hair hanging loosely in front of my face and tucks it behind my ear. The gesture seems caring, but it makes me shudder.

Although I'm not satisfied with his answer, I simply nod in response and turn away, stalking off towards my compartment. I can feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest, his cold eyes still vivid and real in my mind. He was too close to me, so close I could have sworn he could see right through me. The thought terrifies me and makes me wish that he'd never picked me.


	6. Perfection

I refrain myself from kicking that stupid, surgically-altered man-woman from the Capitol in the face again as he tears off yet another strip of hair off my leg. The first time he'd done it, I left a big red mark on his pale, eerily gray skin.

"Last one." He says in his odd Capitol accent, smiling at me with green teeth. Gross.

He gives a quick jerk and I feel the pain rippling up my legs, making me want to take one of my knives and slide it across his gray neck. I smile at the thought.

There's a small, plump woman sitting beside me, filing my nails down to perfect stubs and then polishing them off with a clear substance. Her hair is blue and green and in a beehive-style hairdo. Her lips are smothered in a dark purple and she furrows her purple eyebrows in focus as she works on my nails. My entire body aches from the hours of "perfecting" me, which is total bull crap. I may not be perfect, but I'm not ugly, and I certainly don't want to end up looking like these Capitol clowns. And the fact that they were covering up many of the scars that I've acquired over many years of training really pissed me off to an extent where I want to strangle them with my bare hands. I swallow the grim thought and grit my teeth. It's like trying to keep a monster down inside of me.

…...

I stand there awkwardly, only in my underwear as my stylist looks me up and down. His name is Cicero, and he's a young, handsome man in his late twenties. So far, he's the least abnormal citizen that I've met since my arrival at the Capitol, and the only odd thing that I see about him is the gigantic, silver and blue tattoo covering his entire right arm, covering it in swirls. I find myself blushing under his handsome gaze and silently curse myself for my foolishness. Now is not the time for little crushes.

"Beautiful young girl." Is all he says. I control my blushing this time. "Perfect for my design.

My prep team is giggling in the corner. I've learned that the man with the gray skin's name is Coriander and the plump woman with the beehive's name is Iris.

"Very well then. Let's get her off to her room." Then, turning towards me, he says, "Get some rest. Your prep team will be over in a few hours to prepare you for the Opening Ceremonies."

He struts out of the room, my prep team following him, and I'm left to stand there, shivering, in only my underwear. I just hope I don't look stupid.


	7. Impressions

I stand in my chariot, trying to look as cocky and certain of myself as possible. I'm the one of the first tributes to arrive, due to my vastly experienced and speedy prep team. I know I look amazing. I would have never thought that I would be able to reach such a point of beauty, of such elegance. What my stylist and prep team have done for me is amazing. My hair is long and flowing down my back, and there's a single braid wrapped around the top of my head like a halo. I'm wearing a soft pink lip balm that appears to shape my lips perfectly and there are hues of gold and brown around my eyes. My eyelashes have become long and full, after a long half hour of pulling and tearing at them. And my dress is no disappointment either. It's long and flowing, reaching around my ankles. It's a powdery white and has golden trimmings on the neck and waistline. They've given me white sandals with golden buckles and a beautiful golden necklace to top off the look. I look like a Greek goddess, beautiful and powerful. I had severely underestimated my stylist.

I hear a loud thump, startling me and forcing me to look behind me. It's the District 4 girl who hadn't volunteered, and she looks literally like water. The fabric on her t-shirt and shorts seems to flow and move like water. Her hair's short and adorned with fake fish.

Seeing an opportunity, I step out of my chariot smoothly and strut over to hers, trying my best to look intimidating.

"Hi." I say, stepping toward her and holding out my hand. "I'm Andromeda Perro, District 2. And you are?" I raise my eyebrows at her.

She stares at my outstretched hand for a moment and then shakes it roughly. "I'm Nami Rubis."

We stand there for a few moments, looking over each other. She's taller than me by several inches and has short, brown hair and light green eyes. It's hard for me to determine if she's been trained or not, but I can see that she's slightly muscular. I'm not exactly sure what she thinks of me, probably not much, but we both just give each other a brief nod and I head back to my chariot, waiting for that damn Cato to get here.

Soon enough, the very blonde that I despise appears next to me in the next few moments, causing the chariot to shift under his weight. He's dressed to look like a Greek God, golden shield in hand. He notices me looking at him and smirks. I roll my eyes back at him. I wonder when Calantha will get here.

Soon enough, Calantha arrives, giving us an approving nod. We all stand there in silence until I ask her, "So... what do you want us to do?"

She contemplates this for a minute, her baby blue eyes looking up at the sky. "I've been thinking that you should do something that no other District 2 tribute has ever dared to do. I think you should start a pretend relationship."

Cato scoffs at her reply and I hate to admit that I agree. A _team_? It's hard to consider someone a teammate when you're going to be tearing their throat out in a few days.

As if reading my thoughts, Cato says, "Yeah, everyone will buy that. And I'm sure they'll think it's real sweet when I slit her throat in the arena."

Nodding, I say to Calantha, "Ditto to that."

She glares at both of us, smoothing down her black hair. "Of course I know that. Now, look, you spoiled little brats." She leans forward, and I admit that she looks slightly intimidating, even for her small size. "I know how to do my job, and my job is to get you two to last as long as possible, which means that you'll need sponsors. To get sponsors, people have to like you. And the Capitol's gotten bored with ruthless tributes. So, I recommend that you do what I say."

I think for a moment, and then nod. I hate to admit that she's right. Cato takes a longer time to think and then rolls his eyes and nods.

"Alright, then. Now- and don't you dare complain- when you go out there on that chariot, I want you two to hold each others hand." She says, gesturing toward us.

I sigh and allow Cato to grab my hand and, to no surprise, his grip is nearly bone crushing. Oh, how I wish that I was in the arena with Calantha, so that I could wring her little neck for making me do this in front of all of Panem, in front of all my competition. I'll look weak, girly, needy.

The second District 1 chariot, which is occupied by the young girl with the flaming red hair and the weak boy, soon takes off and it's almost our turn. I can feel my hand going numb in Cato's. Damn him for being stronger than me.

Pretty soon we're off and front of the crowd. Cato and I are forced to look each other in the eye without any hatred shown, which I know is probably not at all believable to the crowd. I hear people screaming our names, adoring us and showering us with applause. I feel on top, like I can do almost anything. I feel important and loved by the crowd.

As our chariot comes to an abrupt stop, I realize that I'm still grasping Cato's hand. Pulling away quickly, I'm greeted by a cocky smirk from Cato. When doesn't this guy look like a cocky bastard? But none of that matters, because I feel confident and sure of myself. But I'm still not sure of how I'll convince all of Panem that I have feelings for Cato Monstrum.


	8. Trance

My hands are still numb from Cato's vise-like grip as we ride back up to our floor. We have the back half of the second floor, which means that we'll have to go past Elaina and Avarus' rooms so that we can get to our rooms.

I lean back in the elevator to grab the railing, but jump when I find a warm, strong hand. I look back and see Cato smirking from behind me. "Nervous, Andy?"

I want to punch him square in his stupid, cocky face. The bringing up of my nickname reminds me of Helena, and I can't help but wonder where she is right now, and what she's doing.

Grinning at him slyly, I respond with, "Not at all, Cate." I smirk at his reaction, satisfied that for once, he's the one that looks stupid.

…...

Sleep doesn't seem to find me. It seems like all my bad memories, all my bad thoughts have come flooding back to me.

_I shudder when I see a pair of blue eyes staring back at me. I freeze, hoping that maybe I'll be left alone._

"_No, mom. I think I'm just hearing things."_

I cover my ears with one of my pillows and bite down hard on my blanket, but they won't stop. The worst memories, the worst ideas and thoughts are flooding through my mind, so hard and fast that I want to scream.

_Helena's silent, her bowl of cereal sitting untouched in front of her. Her eyes appear to be glazed over, and it seems like she's in her own miserable little world._

I can't help but start sobbing. The tears just start flowing out of my eyes, and my vision is blurred. I sit up in the darkened room, so terribly alone and cold. Not exactly sure of what I'm doing, I get out of bed and slowly start walking towards the clear, glass door that leads to a balcony looking over the Capitol. I shiver as I step outside, only in a tank-top and shorts.

Lost in my thoughts, I sit down on the ground and look out over the Capitol. Even at night, when it all looks so glorious and beautiful, I find myself filled with hatred and disgust.

I don't even notice that someone has joined me until I feel a warm hand on my knee. I tense up immediately.

"Can't sleep, Andromeda?" He says mockingly, drawing patterns on my knee with his fingers. I feel him leaning closer to me, but I say nothing. I'm usually silent after I've had one of my "attacks", and not even Cato could get me to respond right now.

I hear him chuckle lightly, but my attention's still on the glowing lights of the Capitol. "Why so silent?" I don't move as I feel his lips brushing up against my cheek. I'm not in the mood for his little games.

I feel goosebumps creep up my arm as he brushes the hand that's not on my knee on my back slowly, obviously trying to get me to cave. Despite the cold feeling creeping up my body, I stay still.

"You want to know why I picked you?" He says against my ear, his breath warm, but at the same time cold.

I don't respond, but he answers anyway. "I guess you're just... enticing to me." I feel him smirk up against my ear.

Breaking away from my trance, I inch away from him, shivering in the night time air. "Don't you lie to me." I say angrily, glaring at him.

Releasing me from his grip, he leans up against a white chair on the balcony, looking at me with mischievous eyes.

"Who said I was lying?" And with that, I got up and walked back into my room, locking the glass door behind me. Only Cato could piss me off enough to slip me out of one of my episodes.


End file.
